


far, far from home (but we're so happy)

by Muir_Wolf



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, To Boldy Go There and Back Again (RPF)
Genre: Gen, THE SIRS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:49:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muir_Wolf/pseuds/Muir_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Ian McKellen and Sir Patrick Stewart travel, laugh, and slowly—accidentally—create the television show that their fans demand; it's an acceptable excuse to stay in each other's orbit longer, so they allow it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	far, far from home (but we're so happy)

&

Ian leans against the left armrest of his desk chair, his gaze sliding across the email on his computer. He shifts, slightly, and looks at the tidy stack of three scripts that his agent sent for him to read through. He has plenty of options of things to do—there's still even dishes to be put away in the kitchen, after all—but he's rather inclined to stay where he is, possibly with the addition of rubbing his hand over his eyes in a wearied manner. He's just considering whether it's worth the extra effort when no one is here to observe it, when his cell vibrates in that annoying manner it has.

“Ian, it's me,” Patrick says as soon as he picks up the phone. “What are you doing next week?”

“I'm not sure,” Ian says. “I'm between projects currently. Did you have something in mind?”

“A week in Switzerland?” Patrick offers, and Ian can hear the crisp edge of a smile in Patrick's words. He mentally runs through people he should see, things he should do, correspondence he should return. But damn it's been a while since he's seen Patrick.

“When do we leave?”

&

They spend a week in the Alps. Patrick's rented a small cabin for the occasion, and they sit out on the porch in the mornings with hot coffee or tea (“Earl Grey, hot,” Ian says, nodding towards Patrick's mug, and Patrick chuckles despite himself) and watch the local foxes play in the first snowfalls.

Patrick starts a fire in the fireplace the first evening, and Ian gladly hands him pages of one of the scripts he brought to read for use as tinder. They stay up late talking and share a few drinks between them, and it's Patrick that takes the first selfie of the two of them leaning in next to each other. He adds the hashtag #onhols and sends it out into the ether of the internet, and they spend a few minutes watching in muted amusement at the clamor they always cause in their fans whenever they reenter each other's orbit.

“We should do this more often,” Ian says, his voice a low rumble against the crackle of the fire, and Patrick nods.

&

“Montana,” Ian offers up, his voice low and steady in the receiver, and Patrick bites back a sharp laugh.

“Montana?” he repeats, disbelief coloring his words. 

“You did say it was my turn to pick,” Ian says, soft amusement bleeding through the softer static. Patrick's on location, and cell service here is rather atrocious, but he wasn't about to let that stop him from answering Ian's call.

“Yes, but—what's in Montana?”

“Glacier National Park, a particularly good year of brandy, and myself, at that time of year, I believe,” Ian says. He can just about hear when Patrick relaxes into the idea.

“Very well,” he says. “Two months and a handful of days from now we'll go to Montana. And it had better be a _very_ good year.”

“I'm counting the hours,” Ian chuckles.

&

It's a very, very good year of brandy.

Better still is Ian's shoulder resting against Patrick's.

They take a video of themselves as they go through the glaciers, acting as very overeager tour guides. Ian's done some reading about the area (he does like to prepare for a role), and Patrick just makes facts and stories up off the top of his head, and when they collapse back onto the couch in their room at the end of the night, they giggle— _giggle_ —into their drinks.

“I'm putting this online,” Ian says, his voice invoking something royal and unyielding. Patrick thinks he might recognize it from some play or other Ian's been in over the years, thinks he's become quite skilled at catching when Ian slides into someone else.

“I should hope so,” Patrick says, nodding rather seriously, if he does say so himself. “The world must not be denied. Although, do you actually know how one does that, Ian?”

“Are you doubting me?” Ian asks, a half-smile playing on his lips that leads Patrick to the fairly simple deduction that Ian does not, in fact, know how to put it online.

“Give it here, then,” Patrick says, hand outstretched. He starts uploading it when Ian hands it over. The wifi is rather poor, so it takes a while, and Patrick hums slightly as he leans over the laptop. “It needs a name.”

Ian leans back into the couch, eyes turning thoughtful. It doesn't take long at all for them to turn wicked, but then Patrick knows him well, and isn't too surprised.

“To Boldly Go,” Ian pronounces grandly. Patrick's eyebrows rise, and Ian mirrors him with what could only be termed a challenge.

“There and Back Again,” Patrick offers up instead. Ian's steady face breaks with a pleased grin. 

“Yes, that isn't bad, is it,” he says. “Well, no need to give either of us short shrift, when all is said and done, my dear. 'To Boldly Go There and Back Again,' and be done with it, eh?”

Patrick lets out a short bark of laughter, and then nods, his thumb and finger wiping at the corner of his eyes in his amusement.

He types in the name, finishes the upload, and turns off the computer.

&

Their agents, respectively, tell them that they have broken the internet. Ian laughs, and Patrick goes in immediately and edits the about section of the video, adding in links to several charities. Ian's eyes soften as he watches him do it, and Patrick shrugs, as if to say _might as well._

They're there just a handful more days, and then they slide apart once more.

&

A few months later and they're in Brazil. They don't plan on making another video, but they're in Fortaleza and the ocean is absurdly clear and Ian is wearing a hat that looks honestly terrible on him. Patrick's told him that three times, but the sun is beating down, and finally Patrick chooses to stop in a store and buy a terrible hat as well, and so here they are, the both of them, pants rolled up to just below their knees and sand sticking to their elbows.

Ian waves his phone and lifts a shoulder in query, and Patrick says, very gravely, “Might as well make the humiliation complete,” and they tape a video in which they look more than slightly absurd. They walk back to their hotel hand-in-hand, their shoulders bumping companionably, and the truth of the matter is that absurd or not, Patrick likes the reminders of their times spent together. He treasures them, in fact.

This time, when they upload the video, Ian's elbow pressing against Patrick's side as he leans in close, Patrick adds the charity links immediately. They title it “To Boldly Go There and Back Again: Fortaleza, Brazil,” and Patrick complains that it's too long a name, but he types it in anyway.

The hotel manager sees the video and offers them free massages, and they politely decline, choosing instead to walk the streets together.

&

They go to Tokyo, they go to Greece, they go to Boston, they go to the smallest mid-western town they can find. They relish in each other's company as they always have, and spare as many days for each other as they can pull together, and they take videos, everywhere.

It's almost a year and a half after that first video when their respective agents are approached. The Travel Channel wants them to host a travel show and, if they can clear the rights, they want to keep the name they gave it.

It's an absurd suggestion: neither of them feel remotely qualified to host a travel show. So far all they've done is sneak off somewhere for a few days and tape what amount to memories.

“It's an interesting thought,” Ian's agent says to him. “They'd be willing to work around your other commitments, and wouldn't contract you for more than six or so episodes a year. It could be a small crew, and you'd have a lot of freedom regarding locations and dialogue. You'd certainly be capitalizing on your popularity, and the popularity of your videos.”

“And it would give me time to spend with Patrick,” Ian says thoughtfully. His agent smiles at him.

“That, too.”

&

They watch the first episode in a small bed and breakfast in Scotland, the both of them sitting on Patrick's bed. Patrick rubs Ian's back where he tends to stiffen up, and Ian looks over at him fondly as the title segment plays.

“Not a bad way for us to be remembered,” Ian says when it's over, his voice soft. Patrick looks over at him incredulously, and Ian laughs. “ _Us,_ ” he says. “The people, not the characters we play, and us together, rather than separately.”

Patrick squeezes Ian's shoulder. 

“Not bad at all.”

&

“Yes, yes, welcome, welcome,” Ian says, a crooked smile directed at the camera. “Patrick, dear, would you like to tell them where we are?”

“I'm sure they can guess,” Patrick says, gesturing in the direction of the Eiffel Tower behind them.

“You're ruining the entire spirit of this,” Ian says mock-sternly, and Patrick laughs.

“Am I? Oh dear, well we can hardly have that. We're in _Paris_ ,” he says, adding the French accent on the last word. “And we'll be here for...a week?”

“Eight days, I think,” Ian says, “but you know I'm hardly the one to ask for details such as that! Long enough, anyway, I should think, for us to partake of some food—”

“Definitely food,” Patrick agrees.

“And some museums and what-not. Perhaps a carriage ride? Should we do a carriage ride?”

“You know, I've never done one of those before. Outside of movies, of course.”

“Then carriage ride it is! And whatever else that catches our fancy, I should imagine.”

Patrick smiles, but it's directed at Ian rather than the camera, and his eyes are soft, soft, soft.

“Indeed,” he says, and he lifts out a hand, palm up, towards Ian. “Well, then,” he says. “Shall we start?”

&

&


End file.
